Angelic Virtue
by squallwis04
Summary: Col. Jai Akira of the Transvaal SpecOps is transferred to Angel Brigade due to...sudden circumstances. Space battles, a bit of romance, and Transvaal weirdness galore! Please R&R.
1. Reinstatement

**_DISCLAIMER_**: Galaxy Angel, all characters, places, etc, are copyright of Bandai and Broccoli. **They are by no means ****mine.** So don't sue! Jai Akira is my own character, though, and does belong to me! This plot is also my own, spawn of my unbridled, albeit quite unimaginative, imagination. Any resemblance of any name to any person, living or otherwise, is purely coincidental.

**AUTHOR'S NOTES aka RANDOM RAMBLING:**

Fic started: November 7, 2003 (original idea, original concept) / May 3, 2004 (revised)

Well, I've decided to try something different...since I don't see that many Galaxy Angel fics out there. This is technically my second fanfic and third fiction, but I got my Vandread one going before really fixing this up, so...this becomes the third fanfic, and the fourth piece of fiction.

This one's based solely on the anime season 1, since I haven't read any of the manga or watched the other seasons. A lot of things are just assumptions of mine, and are, most probably inaccurate to what the official facts state. That's the way it is, though, this being my fic and all. It's also a little less serious than my others...I think.

And Jai Akira here's different from Jai Akira in my Vandread fic. LAZY...(to think up more names).

Thanks to all the writers over at , especially those in the Anime, Game, Cartoon and Book sections, for all the great fics. You guys & girls rock! My gratitude also to those in guys & girls also rock! To authors in both, you doubly rock!

And thanks to you, dear reader! Yeah, you, for reading this. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Oh yeah, please review, if possible. I mean constructive criticism and non-degrading, non-mortifying comments, that is. Well, if you just HATE the fic, then don't continue reading! It's that simple! You don't have to blab about 'how the story sucks' or something. Well, you can write flames, but you'd just be wasting your time and effort, you can be sure of that. So please. If you don't like this, then just go and write something you do like . Everyone has the potential to come up with a great story.

Here goes...enjoy!

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**CHAPTER 1**

Reinstatement

"You're what...?!"

The general's desk shook as I slammed my fist down on it. The conversation had gone to a point where I could no longer hold back my irritation.

He spoke rather nervously, even if he was the higher-ranking officer, and because he knew that it took a lot to get me mad. "There's no need to get all riled up...it's not that you're going to quit the Transvaal Empire military or anything...well...not that you're even formally in it..."

I slumped back in the chair, my slight anger already beginning to subside.

The old man's face lightened a bit. "Now, you had better learn to take better control of your temper, Colonel Jai Akira..."

"Stop calling me that. We both know that I don't really have a position in the military, be it in the Covert and Spec-Ops Department or otherwise...it's just for show," I replied glumly.

He laughed despite his situation, scratching at his grizzly beard. "Honestly though, you do have what it takes to be one, and much more, in fact! Your performance in military school proves that! It's just because you lack records and credentials that you're an agent and couldn't totally enter the military..."

"Yeah, yeah...no more beating around the bush, will you? Get to the point."

"Erm...as I've said..." he was beginning to stammer again, "...that bet I lost to the general of the Bombs and Explosives Department...well...his nephew's transferring here. And now we're one man over the member limit...and I was thinking...if you could transfer to make way..."

"...even hearing it the second time makes it no less annoying. And it's all because of a lousy bet...?"

"It's to protect the image of our department! You don't know how much pressure's on my head...and besides...it was a big bet, actually..."

"I can't believe you're doing this...well, actually I can...since it's what you've been doing for the past...oh, I don't know...a really long time. And now you ask me since nobody else will help you, right?"

"I asked you since you're like family to me..."

I interrupted. "Um...don't you ask those kinds of people last, instead of first?"

"And you have the lowest ranking in the entire squad..."

"Yeah...and the rest are fake generals..."

"Look...what are you getting so upset about? You're not actually part of the military, even if you did get through and graduate military academy two years back with flying colors, even qualifying for 4-star general and all. And you've been instated here only for less than a year. You know that..."

This was getting nowhere. Instead of pushing the conversation any further, I just gave an exhausted sigh. "Well, being an independent entity does have its ups and downs. Alright, I'm up to it. Where do I go?"

"That's great!" The general almost jumped through the roof. He then handed me an envelope from inside his desk, the contents of which I quickly scanned over.

"Angel Brigade...?! You're transferring me there?!"

"They're almost the same age as you. You're about 19, right, or 20? And you'll still retain your position, so it's not so bad..."

"Oh, I see. It's in the bet, right?"

"NO! No...! Well...kind of...I bet my best man into Angel Unit if I lost..."

The argument was over, and I had already decided. How could transferring there make any difference anyway? Sure, it was one of the newer squads of the Transvaal military, was only assigned menial tasks like making deliveries and 'Lost Technology-hunting', and most, if not all, of its members were teenage girls...or so we were informed; I would have to see for myself. At least it would be far less stressing than my assignments here at Covert and Spec-Ops. I would miss the thrill, though...

I neatly tucked away the papers into the envelope. "I am to leave first thing the day after tomorrow...and whether you like it or not, and since there's no specification here, I'm taking my own fighter ship, the Avatar, with me. Well...you take care of things here."

"Sure. Absolutely...and Jai..."

I looked back as I began to leave the room.

"...thanks. You've grown so much since I first met you way back fourteen years ago..."

"Whatever. Be seeing you..." I replied, a half-grin on my face. With that, I left the office and began my way towards my own room to begin packing.

I never could say no to him when he sincerely needed something, no matter how ridiculous it sounded now that he was growing old. I never could, not after all that he had done for me in the past...


	2. Day One

**A/N: **Yeah, I know...obscure first chapter. Things get clearer from here on, though...

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**CHAPTER 2**

Day One

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_'Angel Unit...I wonder why it's called that...'_

I yawned. It was currently 16:00 on my digital wristwatch. It was indeed a long travel even with the Avatar at its top speed of two-thirds the speed of light. Had I known that my destination would be this far, I would have left earlier...yesterday perhaps.

_'I should've taken a closer look at those papers first time I got them...imagine being reassigned to the almost other side of the known universe...'_ I cursed dejectedly. _'Then again...there's nothing I can do now...'_

The one-man craft zoomed stealthily across the galaxies. With nothing to do, the autopilot being turned on for most of the trip already, I laid the padded seat back, making it as comfortable as possible. After several minutes, my mind began to wander to the recent course of events...

Five o'clock in the morning found me silently traversing the Covert and Spec-Ops HQ hallways. I had my belongings with me, all of which fit into a shoulder-sling bag. I did not bother saying goodbye to anyone in the quarters, since they, all 'generals', all looked down on me for being a 'mere corporal'. Besides, I didn't actually know any of them anyway...

Upon reaching the hangar, where my Aviator was being readied by mechanics, I took the time to look around. I spent most of my time here, either tuning-up my vessel or chatting with the hangar crew, who were my only friends in the entire department. These would be things I definitely would miss...

Bidding them farewell, and they bidding me good fortune and Godspeed, I started up the Avatar's engines. With all systems go and the green light up, I effortlessly blasted off into space.

...and now, my radar indicated the destination coordinates quite nearby.

_'Huh...? That was quick...oh, I mean...finally...'_ I disabled autopilot and slowed the ship down several notches. I glided for a few minutes, watching as the bleep on my radar steadily neared.

"Angel Unit HQ," I said into the com-link, "this is the Avatar. Do you copy?"

Nobody answered at once, so I began to wonder. Was anybody there at all right now?

"Repeat! Angel HQ, do you copy?"

Nothing. Static...

...and then someone finally answered. It was a good thing too, since I was starting to seriously worry.

"H-hello! This is Angel Headquarters! Who is this?" the voice was nervous, much like that of a novice...or someone in a rush. It was feminine.

_'And real cute-sounding too...'_ I thought out of the blue, and then slapped my head for even thinking that.

"Well, finally, someone answers. This is the Avatar; pilot Colonel Jai Akira formerly of the Covert and Spec-Ops Unit. Do I have clearance to land?"

She hesitated. A moment later, a reply came. "Yes...er...affirmative. We have been expecting you, sir! You are cleared for landing. The front docking bay is opening now to receive you, sir..."

An aperture in the anterior top part of the rather small command ship began to open, the landing lights marking the path. Expertly, I guided the Avatar and landed perfectly in the docking bay, hovering a bit before touching down.

I got off my craft carrying my one bag, and noticed that nobody was around; no crew whatsoever! So far, the only indication that there was anybody onboard was the voice that answered just awhile and gave clearance. I guessed that it was also that person who had opened the docking hatch. I discarded the idea of calling for somebody, since it was apparent that there were very few people, perhaps even less. Though why it was so...I really couldn't imagine. Instead, I decided to explore on my own.

As I approached the door out of the hangar, it opened silently and I stepped out. Suddenly, I crashed into someone who seemed to be in a hurry. Pieces of paper were sent flying all over the place. Standing and composing myself quickly, I turned to the person to help whoever it was.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no..." she stammered, picking up the scattered leaves. The first thing I noticed about her was her bright pink hair and how it contrasted her white uniform, as well as her pale skin. She had fragrant blossoms tucked to the strands at the sides, which I thought were...cute. I guessed that she was about my age, maybe even younger by a bit...perhaps a new recruit, or something. She didn't even seem to notice me standing there like an idiot, thankfully. I regained my mind and began picking up the other pages near me.

I leaned to pick up another sheet when she, looking only partly in the direction, also reached out for it; it happened so that her hand was upon mine...but for only that split second. Immediately noticing that there was someone other than herself present, she gave a shriek and jumped backwards in surprise.

"Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you, miss..." I began, shaking my opened palms in front of me. Her face, even though in a shocked expression, was the most attractive I had ever seen before...though it was true that I hadn't really seen all that many females in my past. I then noticed that I my pulse was racing and I was at a temporary loss for any eloquent vocabulary.

She took a moment to catch her breath before looking up at me and flashing a sweet smile that made me heart beat even faster. "It's alright, we're both okay, aren't we? It was also my fault anyway..."

I recomposed myself enough to reply. "Uh, yeah. Um, why are you in such a hurry?"

"Oh, I almost forgot!" She exclaimed, snapping her fingers as if suddenly remembering something. "I've got to get these papers to the Colonel..."

I began going through some of those I had in my hand. I saw that the first one was my bio-data; it even had my name and picture on it. Grinning broadly, I handed them to her. "Well, here you go, um, miss..."

"Milfeulle Sakuraba. I'm Second Lieutenant, and only instated into Angel Brigade four months ago, when I graduated from the academy," she said, taking the papers from me.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Second Lieutenant Sakuraba..."

She smiled nervously. "Just Milfeulle will do, mister...uh...?"

I merely nodded at the papers she had in her hands.

She scanned the first leaf for a short while, then looked back at me, and then returned to the paper.

"AAAHHH!!!" She yelled. It took a lot of self-control to keep me from bursting out into laughter. "S-sir! Second L-l-lieutenant Sakuraba r-r-reporting, s-s-sir!" She stammered in a sudden change of decorum, saluting nervously and hiding her face behind her long locks of strawberry-pink hair.

I just smiled back. Truth to tell, being so rigid and perfunctory didn't suit her all that well. I frankly found it more comfortable when people were friendlier around me...especially her, even though this was only our first meeting.

"Uh, there's actually no need for all those formalities, Milfeulle, please. Relax." I said, my own voice being rather nervous as well.

"B-but...but...I-I-I...you, y-you...I'm so sorry!!!" She almost yelled, bowing her head low, tears welling up in her blue eyes.

"It's alright; there's nothing to be sorry about. In fact, I think it suits you better when you don't act so formal. So, please don't cry, alright?" She was acting like a child at the time, and I really didn't know what else to do but try and calm her down.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her free hand and nodded, now smiling. Her voice still showed her nerves, though. "Y-yes; I understand. Thank you." She then handed the papers to me, all of which I placed into my bag.

"Much better," I said, giving a thumbs-up sign. She did the same in response.

"Oh, I almost forgot...you must be tired from all that traveling. Come, I'll show you to your quarters. Get some rest for awhile and I'll call you when it's time for supper. Uh, want me to carry that for you?" She offered congenially.

"I got it," I replied, adjusting the strap of my bag's sling. Its weight seemed to be getting heavier, or maybe it was just me. In any case, I wasn't about to let a lady do all the work; it wasn't in my nature to do so.

We walked through the corridors of the ship. As if to confirm my suspicions, the only sounds audible were our footfalls against the cold steel floor.

"Pardon my asking..." I said after several moments, "but are we the only ones on the ship? So far, you're the only person I've seen onboard...no crew whatsoever."

She blushed faintly before answering. "Well, that's because everybody else is off on vacation...crew and all."

"And you were left behind? Why?"

"Well...ahahah..." She grinned sheepishly this time. "I was trying to land my ship in the hangar after my first mission a month ago. I crashed into the far wall and made a big hole there. Most of the others spent all that time until recently to repair the damage. As punishment, instead of giving me demerits or something, everyone was given this next month off...except for me and those who wanted to stay..." She narrated animatedly, without any hint of anger at what happened.

"And nobody opted to stay?" I asked tentatively, hoping that I wouldn't make her depressed.

On the contrary, she brightened up even more. "There was one...Vanilla H. She's very quiet...she's been in Angel Unit since the start, I think. I've been told that she hardly spends her spare time outside the ship. Oh, there she is..."

We passed a room that was open. Inside was a gigantic pillar-like machine, and next to it knelt a girl of about fourteen years of age. She had her eyes closed and her hands clasped before her chest; she seemed in deep prayer. All of a sudden, she woke from her meditation and looked straight at us. Her eyes were a bright crimson, and her face was snow-white and emotionless. All she did was give a slight nod, as if to acknowledge our presence, before returning to her former state of subconscious contemplation. Not wanting to disturb her any further, we walked on.

"She's always like that?" I asked when I was sure we were out of earshot.

"Yeah, most of the time. She doesn't talk much, but she's a good person, I can tell. A lot of people call her weird, though...that's just mean of them."

We turned to another corridor. This one was rather short, leading to a dead end not too far ahead, and had six doors, three on both sides, each with a name attached to it. I read what were written one by one as we passed. "Forte...Ranpha...Mint...Vanilla..." and ended with "...Milfeulle. These are your rooms, I take it?"

"That's right. These are the members of Angel Brigade. There're five of us now, not counting you and Commander Volcott. The guest room's this one at the end," she said motioning to the last door in the left side of the hallway, directly opposite the one with her name on it, "and it'll be where you'll be staying for the moment, until we're able to find a better place."

She opened the door and stepped inside, and I followed after her. The interior of the room was unexpectedly spacious; I was under the impression, owing to the appearance of the exterior, that the quarters were small and cramped...an impression that was certainly deceptive on its own. Of course, it wasn't all that big compared to the ones at Covert and Spec-Ops, but I had a feeling that it was going to suit me just fine; I didn't know what to do with all the extra space anyway.

A comfortable-looking bed lay at the far corner of the room, a closet stood near its foot consuming nearly the entire remaining wall. A broad writing desk, furnished with a single swiveling chair, sat almost adjacent the door we had just entered. A few fluorescent lights were spaced about the ceiling, effectively illuminating the space. There was a door that, upon inspection, led to a shower room. Aside from these, the rest of the room was empty.

"Heheh...sorry if the room's not too grand or anything. I know it's nothing compared to your former place, but it was the best we could do on such short notice," she said, her tone reflecting the sincerity of her determination in finding me more suitable quarters.

I dropped my bag and plopped down on the bed, placing my hands behind my head and dangling my feet over the side so as to avoid getting my boots on the clean sheets. "Quite frankly, I don't see anything wrong with this room. I don't have all that many things to put, anyway, right?" I said, nodding towards my bag.

"Maybe...but even then..." she began, again struggling to find words, "...these rooms are mostly for us Lieutenants. Even Commander Volcott has his room in another part of the ship..."

I interrupted in the politest manner possible. "That doesn't mean that I can't stay here, now does it?"

"Well...no, it doesn't..."

I sat up. "Just because I have a 'higher rank' doesn't mean that I should be treated differently from you guys..." I said, only later noticing the contradiction of my words when she looked at me questioningly. "I mean, I'd rather be treated more like a normal person rather than an officer of some sort...heck, back at Covert and Spec-Ops, I even used to sleep in my Avatar in the hangar instead of in my own room! And the rooms there were really grand. Maybe they just didn't suit me..." I added, stressing my point. I didn't want other people going out of their way just to give me something I didn't want.

"Really?" she asked, wide-eyed, "Wow. I guess if it was me, I'd have a hard time even getting out of bed! Are you sure that you'll be fine here?"

"Positive!"

"Okay then, sir...now if you will please excuse me, I have to get supper ready!" She said, growing more excited with each syllable. She then stepped...or perhaps more like skipped...out of the room, leaving me in solitude.

I stared at the door, recalling her leaving form.

_'She's a strange person...'_ I thought, and then kicked off my shoes and lay back down again, smiling inwardly to myself. _'but it's rather nice...in a sense...'_

I stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours; it was something I hadn't done in a very long time, though frequently before. Or did I somehow fall asleep? I couldn't remember, but the next thing I knew after an indefinite period of time, I heard someone knocking on my door.

"Yes?" I asked loudly, moving to a sitting position. The door whooshed open, and I saw the other girl standing just outside...the one with the mesmerizing eyes...

She looked at me once again with her vacant expression. She spoke this time, which, I thought was a big improvement. "Milfeulle says the food's ready and is inviting us to eat." Her voice was barely a whisper and, like her eyes, almost devoid of any emotion. There was something oddly...calming about her, though.

"Thanks," I said cheerily, "It's nice to meet you, uh, Vanilla, was it?"

Silence was the only reply. She began walking down the corridor, perhaps towards the kitchen.

"H-hey! Wait up!" I called out, hurriedly putting on my boots. I didn't know where the dining area was, and decided that it was easier to follow her instead of finding my own way. I quickly got up and began sprinting outside.

I slowed suddenly as I saw her stationary form in the middle of the hallway, her back to me. It was when I caught up to her that she began walking again.

"Thanks for waiting for me..." I said, walking a little behind her.

She took small, unhurried steps, making the stroll all that more prolonged...or maybe she was trying to let me go ahead and leave her alone...

I wanted to make sure. For all I knew, I could be following her elsewhere. "Uh, excuse me, but are we going to the dining room?"

She only nodded in response.

"Oh, uh, okay, thanks," was all I could utter.

We proceeded in silence for a few seconds. I was surprised when it was she who finally disturbed the stillness.

"Doubt enshrouds silence, and silence, doubt; it is not with eyes that we perceive truth..."

It was enigmatic, probably her own, but at the same time something that proved her point clearly. I took a while to ponder on it, then I finally came to the ultimate conclusion that it meant she could be trusted, despite her peculiarities.

"I see...well...thanks again," I said, now walking at her right, alongside her, feeling much more at ease. She, however, remained stoic the whole time.

The quiet continued for the rest of the way, which wasn't all that long. Upon reaching the mess hall, which, to my surprise, was fashioned so unlike a "mess hall" in the most common sense of the word (it looked more like a restaurant of sorts), we found Milfeulle putting the finishing touches on a feast that lay on the center table. There was rice, bread, roast, stew and curry, as well as several cakes and pastries with decorative icing.

I stopped at the doorway. "Wow! All this only for the three of us?" I asked, incredulous, while Vanilla continued to a chair at the dining table as if the scene before us all was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Er..." Milfeulle stammered, "...I just thought that you might be hungry, so I made some extra..."

My stomach growled in assent as I made my way towards the banquet and took a seat. "Heh...maybe. It looks and smells really good! You cooked all of this?"

She sat beside me. "Yes, actually. I hope you enjoy it; I just love cooking!"

We all said grace, as discreetly insisted by Vanilla, and then we ate. If the food looked and smelled good, it tasted even better. Milfeulle looked thoroughly pleased when I mentioned it...she must really take her cooking seriously. Vanilla remained silent the whole time, merely nodding, sometimes not responding at all, when we tried to make conversation.

The quiet, cyan-haired girl finished eating first. She prayed thanks, deposited her utensils and empty plate in the nearby sink, washed them clean, and proceeded out of the dining hall without as much as a sound. We finished soon afterwards, with plenty of leftovers to go around.

"Since you were the one who prepared the meal, I insist that I wash the dishes. It's only fair," I said matter-of-factly, getting up and taking the used tableware.

"No, you don't. It's my job, and I also like doing it anyway," she persisted, scrambling to take the china from me. Her hands brushed mine for a fleeting second, and she suddenly withdrew, a slight blush creeping up her face. I almost dropped the plates as a consequence.

After a short, awkward silence, I spoke. "Okay...here's what. I'll soap and wash, then you can dry them. How's that?"

She smiled. "Alright..."

And so it went as such; I, a so-called Colonel at the renowned Transvaal military, washed dishes, then handed them over to the Second Lieutenant for drying. To us, the situation wasn't all that odd.

"Don't you think that sometimes she gets lonely...?" I asked shortly after we had finished all the work and were making our way towards our quarters.

Milfeulle looked only half as worried as I did. "It's just the way she is, I guess. I just sometimes wonder how she came to be like that..."

I stretched out when we got to our respective doors. "Well, g'night. Thanks for being so welcoming. You know...I've got a feeling I'm going to enjoy it here."

"I hope so. Well, sweet dreams, Jai..." she said as she entered her room and closed the door quietly.

_'Sweet dreams...?'_ I stood still for awhile in complete silence, and then smiled to myself. "Yeah...good night too..."

I knew that I was going to have pleasant dreams that night...


	3. Observation

**A/N: **Whoa! It's been more than a year since last update of this fic! Haha...time just goes by so fast when you're really busy with lotsa stuff... :-)

In any case, lots of apologies for those who've been waiting patiently for the continuation, for those who've read and enjoyed the fic but had to endure a long span of time for this update. If my PC isn't acting up, I'm too busy to write...oh well. But don't you guys worry, I plan to finish this fic...though I'm not really sure when that time will come. Haha...uh, shout-outs!

**Graq the Wild Child** – Many thanks for being the first to review:-) Yeah, the...uh...eccentricities of Transvaal are what make them so much fun to write about. :-) Haha...I was so happy when I saw the GA category in (thus the additional drive to continue this fic). Thanks again and sorry for the delay:-)

** Kryuzei – **There are lots of fanfics in Haha...and I think there're more Galaxy Angel fics coming out as well, which is a good thing. Many thanks for the review:-)

** Limpylou – **I'm glad you like the story. :-) And I'd like to apologize for making you wait long, even though you can't wait... :-) Anyways, many, many thanks for adding this to your faves. :-)

** Tsuki Hoshi Hikari **– I couldn't continue soon coz of all the schoolwork (mostly) I have to do. My course is very demanding...haha. Actually, I'm only able to add a bit to the fic each day, though sometimes none at all... :-) Anyways, here's the continuation...thanks for the review:-)

**CheRry'saMa** – (Your name's so hard to type! Haha...but it's okay...) The fic's short now coz I've only written a bit. Don't worry, it'll get longer. :-) Thanks for liking the story, and for the review. Here's the update...sorry it wasn't all that "soon". And you don't have to beg and all...the update comes when it comes. :-)

**Shadowzero** – Very sorry for the immensely late update. Please don't decapitate me...seriously, I do apologize. Didn't mean to torture ya. :-) Here's the update...hope you enjoy it:-)

Whew! Haha...without further ado, finally, here's the continuation. Enjoy:-)

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**CHAPTER 3**

Observation

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My alarm timepiece woke me from a pleasant sleep, and I saw it read 04:00 before I very unceremoniously tapped it back to silence.

Finally, I decided to get up after another few minutes of just laying in the darkness. Jetlag didn't really affect my circadian rhythm all that much...what with the assignments I had before on different planets and galaxies. Looking around for awhile made me remember that this wasn't my old room at the Covert and Spec-Ops HQ.

_'Oh yeah...'_ I thought, more out of sheer relief than anything else, even more than regret. While Spec-Ops HQ was one of the best-off and well-decorated places in the military, being there wasn't really very...comfortable for me. I guess I wanted something different...and that was aside from the fact that most of the other officers there treated me like dirt.

It was entirely unlike this place. Even upon waking, I felt just a twinge of enthusiasm in that this day was actually going to be worth waking up to.

Strange...but it was something I could really get used to...

After a warm shower and quick change into casual clothes later, a black turtleneck shirt and loose jeans to be more precise, I found myself traversing the corridors. I hadn't bothered to wake the others; I really didn't know if they were pleasant people in the morning...though I had a lingering suspicion that they were. In any case, I chose to leave them in peace at the moment; I could find my way on my own.

No more than ten minutes later, I had seen and memorized most of the Angel HQ. Apart from the crew's quarters, the only other noteworthy locations were the mess hall, main and auxiliary control rooms, engine room, and hangar. Suffice to say, this base was much smaller than that of my previous department.

I made my way to the kitchen at the end of the self-tour to prepare breakfast. _'Why not do something nice for them for a change...?'_ I thought, recalling the previous meal I had. It wasn't a bad idea, considering I had really good cooking skills...but not up to gourmet standards yet, though, as far as I was concerned, anyway.

"Alright...let's see..."

This time, like many times before whenever I had the chance, I enjoyed cooking; it was such that I had lost track of time. In what seemed like only shortly afterwards, I was setting the prepared dishes on the table; among them were my favorite for breakfast – waffles with blueberry syrup, mini frankfurters, freshly-blended apple juice, and, my personal favorite and specialty, apple pie. I had just placed the pitcher of juice on the table when Milfeulle stepped in.

"Hey, what are you doing...? Wow! You prepared all of this! But I was supposed to make breakfast...!" She sounded more apologetic than anything else, even surprised.

"You prepared dinner last night, correct? Well, this is my thanks." I said, smiling and taking a seat. "And you both were so hospitable that I felt I had to do something in return. Have a nice sleep, Vanilla?" I added as I noticed the other member of Angel Brigade walk into the room.

She merely nodded, and then simply took her place at the table opposite me and began getting her food...that was, after saying thanks to God.

"E...even then...!" Milfeulle, on the other hand, was still persistent about the topic of breakfast preparations.

I was about to say something when Vanilla spoke up, "It's good."

Short and simple, but it was enough to change the entire atmosphere of the room.

"Really?" Milfeulle suddenly asked, brightening up a bit. She then sat beside me and helped herself to, at first, a sample serving of pie. She took a bite, studying the taste carefully.

It was a few seconds before she stood and exclaimed. "That's really good! I've never tasted anything like it! You sure you made this!"

I had a piece of waffle in my mouth, so I just nodded in response.

"You must teach me how to make apple pie like this! Please...please...please...? Oh pleasepleaseplease..." she wailed, shaking me by my shirt so hard that I almost suffocated.

"A...a-al-alright...! Okay!" I managed, finally swallowing when she let go.

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" she replied, launching herself at me in a tight hug.

"I...i-it's n...no p...problem...!" I stuttered, this time not more out of being actually asphyxiated. It was a good thing nobody noticed that I was blushing rather fiercely then...I took a quick glance at Vanilla and found her indifferently nibbling on a waffle. I let out a big cough when Milfeulle finally let go.

"Great! Could I call you 'master' then?" she asked, smiling broadly.

"'Colonel' is bad enough...now you want to call me 'master'? Forget it!" I replied in mock anger.

"WAAAAH! Then I won't call you that! I won't!" she said suddenly, genuinely worried.

I had to laugh. "Hey, don't take it seriously. Sure, I'll teach you...calling me 'master' just isn't necessary. Although..."

"Although...?" she asked, her previous worry now all gone, replaced by another big smile.

"We'll have to get some more ingredients...I used up the last of the apples."

"Okay! There's a great grocery place nearby. Let's go right after breakfast!"

I nodded, taking a sip of juice.

She continued. "Hey, Vanilla, want to come along?"

Vanilla, who had just finished eating and was about to leave, just stood by the doorway for a moment, perhaps in thought, before answering softly, "...okay."

I hesitated a little. "Uh, but who's going to watch the ship...?"

Milfeulle replied, holding something up and giving a little gesture. "Don't worry. I got the keys right here. It'll be safe."

I nearly choked on my apple juice.

--------------------

It was only nine-thirty, but already there were a lot of people. It turned out that the grocery place was in fact a jumbo-mall on a nearby planet. Though we were only supposed to pick up groceries for our meals, we ended up window-shopping through the other stores even before heading to the grocery.

I wasn't much for shopping; I didn't really used to go out and have fun like this. Most of my spare time before was for training or research of whatever in the extensive library of the Spec-Ops HQ; sometimes I'd sleep instead.

Now was so very different from those times. Not even in my craziest dreams would I imagine walking through a nearly-crowded mall with anyone, much less two charming ladies, one, Milfeulle, on my left and another, Vanilla, on my right.

But now that I was on an outing like this, it seemed...actually enjoyable.

"Hey, Jai," Milfeulle began cheerily, "you seem quite happy."

"Shouldn't I be?" I asked, slightly taken aback by her statement.

"It's not that you shouldn't be...it just seems like you're having a lot of fun, and there's something livelier about your atmosphere right now. It's like you don't get around much; that this is a rather new experience for you, and, well, you're enjoying yourself."

I was surprised once more by her words, but this time more of the 'awed' than by the 'confused' sort of surprise.

"It's like you can read me like an open book. I must be getting soft...it's only my second day here, and you know more about me than most of the staff of my previous department ever did, and I was there for the greater part of eight months!"

Vanilla answered. "They never took the time."

"Yeah, you could say that...or rather, should say that." I affirmed, shrugging. "They were all generals, most of them old enough to be granddads. Anyways, they were pompous, stubborn and obnoxious. It was like they didn't care about anything other than themselves and their power. The closest friends I had back there were the mechanics who worked on my jet."

"Gee, I never thought it could be that unfriendly. I probably wouldn't have lasted long." Milfeulle said a bit dejectedly.

"It is an elite department. Spec-Ops is very demanding; always a quota or deadline to meet, a standard to measure up to, that kinda stuff...but hey!" I burst out, feeling a tension begin to rise. "We're not here to talk about that kind of depressing stuff. Let's just hang back and relax for now."

"Yeah!" Milfeulle yelled, raising a fist in enthusiasm. "Let's have fun!"

Even Vanilla agreed, though with only a nod.

And so, the shopping spree began.

More than providing an opportunity to unwind, the excursion gave me the time to know a bit more about myself; like that I was more interested in looking through computers, gadgets and books than in clothes, fashion and decors; that I preferred earth tones to pastel colors; that I was actually good at board games, chess especially; that I was almost two-thirds as religious as Vanilla; and that I knew as much about cooking as Milfeulle.

They both got stuffed toys at a toy shop; Milfeulle a soft pink bunny that could be made to cling to a bar, or a pole, or even an arm; and Vanilla a vivid pink stuffed...creature...with short, pointed ears, a tail, and a small red 'z' etched on its front side. Not to be outdone, I took a black-and-white panda that had black beads for eyes and a big black nose. It wasn't very colorful or exciting, but the simplicity was what I liked most about it; it was cute, besides. _'One more thing to add to my list of things I've learned about myself today'_, I thought, as I paid for the toys...my treat.

But, far more than I knew myself, I knew how to read the emotions, the actions, even the intentions of those around me; a skill I had picked up rather quickly in my short stay at Spec-Ops...and I was good at it. Even without me consciously willing to do so, I found myself observing my two companions.

I saw Milfeulle was the kind of person who really didn't have anything to hide, as it were. She was rather impulsive, and could speak her mind mostly whenever she wanted to, but never when it was at the expense of others...she was compassionate and thoughtful that way. Her innocent laugh was pleasingly genuine, endearingly animated, enchantingly melodic, and, as I've learned on more that one occasion in this morning alone, tremendously contagious...on my part at least; Vanilla didn't so much as crack a smile.

Vanilla, however, was more difficult to read. Her face was a perfectly set mask, barely expressing any emotion at all. Even her actions were taciturn, mechanical. She wasn't scary in the least bit, even by the way she acted; it was just all rather...curious. Her speech was soft and unhurried, and she often quoted the Bible or some wise saying, but she always made her point; she always had one whenever she opened her mouth. I soon began to wonder, what could she be hiding behind the façade? What could have happened in her past that made her this way? There were so many more questions than answers that I decided to let things be for now.

--------------------

It was already past lunchtime when I next checked my watch.

"Hey, it's one o'clock already. Wanna go have something to eat?" Milfeulle asked suddenly.

I mocked surprise. "Huh? Didn't we just have breakfast?"

"Come on, now! That was hours ago! Hey, here looks nice..." We had stopped in front of a fancy-looking café, "Bistro 'en Café". I almost laughed at the ridiculous name, but kept it at least quiet when I saw how impressed Milfeulle seemed to be with the place. Indeed the ambiance was inviting; even just the display at the windowsill looked good enough to eat. Surprisingly, there were little to no people dining.

We all stepped inside, Milfeulle in the lead. As I followed after Vanilla, she voiced to me a thought that had popped into my head at the exact moment: "Looks could be deceiving..."

I took a very momentary pause in mid-step; half my mind still pondered on the adage, while the other half wondered how in the world she could have known what I was thinking at the exact moment. I then just filed it into 'coincidence', as the idea presented itself rather blatantly in the situation. The whole thing was rather creepy, though.

Looking around, there were lots of empty tables. To my utmost surprise, both girls began to make their way in separate directions. Milfeulle headed to a table near the huge glass pane that held a wide view of the city highways outside. Vanilla, however, moved towards a table at the opposite wall, one right beside the store's aquarium.

I just stood near the entrance and observed.

"Oh, you want to stay there, Vanilla? Okay..." Milfeulle said, beginning to move to where our companion was. In the same manner, though she didn't say anything, Vanilla started for the other table. Both stopped when they saw what the other was doing. Milfeulle then laughed and said to me, "Okay...you decide where we're going to sit, Jai." Also Vanilla turned to face me.

I felt that I was being put on the spot. Both locations were okay, and I really didn't mind where we sat, but I felt that choosing one over the other would make one of them feel bad...or maybe it was just me. In any case, I chose a table right in the middle...under the biggest chandelier in the place. "If it's okay with both of you..." I stated, a bit hesitantly.

Milfeulle smiled. "Sure, no problem!" Vanilla just nodded.

We took our seats, and ordered lunch. Even the food they ordered showed stark contrast... Milfeulle had a strawberry crepe and a tall sundae; Vanilla ordered rice with lots of vegetables, and water. I had a bowl of noodles and a big rootbeer float. Surprisingly, all of that didn't really cost much...another plus for the restaurant, which I was already beginning to be fond of.

Lunch was done after an hour. "Hey," Milfeulle said as we stepped out of the place, "I've got this feeling we forgot something..."

"Groceries..." Vanilla remarked nonchalantly.

"Oh yeah!" Milfeulle replied, snapping her fingers, "You were going to teach me to make that apple pie! Now let's go!"

I just laughed in response as we continued with the outing.


	4. Lesson, Advice

**A/N: **Whew! Ah, finally got this up. I've got school (hospital & clinics, to be more precise) and no more long vacations, so updates might come up irregularly and after months or so...I apologize in advance. Writing's an avenue for creativity and leisure, but school takes up more time, so...there. Fret not, the story will continue. And I'm really beginning to hate things concerned with our internet here (phone line, PC, connection, etc...It's driving me crazy!) Many thanks to all who R&R and who enjoy this as well. Shout-outs!

**Froger54 **– Sorry for not updating soon(er)...glad you think the story's good. :-)

**Shadowzero789** – (to all your reviews) Hey, don't worry. It won't be as long as the last time; I'm making that a point. Actually, this was done around two months or so ago, but I've been having really, reallyannoying PC problems. Ergo, unfortunately, updates might still take months. Oh well. I'm looking forward to reading your work as well...when I can. I'm not really familiar with the additional GA characters (Tact, Chitose, etc). And who am I really pairing up? It's a secret... :-) And don't worry about the "cute"...that is, if you cooperate. (Evil laugh) (Haha...just kidding!)

**Ultimaclaw** – Thanks for the review:-) I'm still thinking about your suggestion...it could happen. :-)

**Twillyzorak** – Haha...looks like the whole family's here:-) Torture won't do any good...if at all, it'll only make updates come even later since I'll be tied up. Hehe... :-) Seriously, tho, I'm trying a great deal to have the new chapters up ASAP. You guys aren't the only ones pissed at delays in updating... . Thanks for the review!

**montypython** – Again, I don't know anything about the new characters 'cept their names (and in the case of Chitose, her face)...I might include them...maybe. I'm still figuring that out. Anyways, thanks for the review:-)

I shouldn't let reviews pile up like that...I forget which ones I haven't replied to yet. Anyways, thanks lots! Here's the much-awaited (though a little short & lame) continuation. Enjoy:-)

--------------------

**CHAPTER 4**

Lesson, Advice

--------------------

The door to my room slid shut as I ambled straight to bed and collapsed heavily on the soft cushion, though I wasn't particularly tired. My timepiece read 21:00; it was night.

"Ah, man...what a day..." I sighed, though smiled inwardly. The day's events proved to be very relaxing, not to mention a little eye-opening and introspective. Looking back at the afternoon, after we had arrived from the morning's outing, I found it as much enjoyable as it was unusual compared to my routine days anytime before.

--------------------

_Flashback:_

"Okay...is everything set?" I asked.

After looking around for a bit at all of the ingredients and utensils on the countertop, Milfeulle beamed and nodded enthusiastically.

Milfeulle and I were in the kitchen of the Angel Brigade ship, getting ready for a cooking lesson...which she had made me agree to do immediately. Particularly, she wanted to learn to make the apple pie I had served for breakfast earlier.

"You sure you want me to teach you right now? You're not tired from this morning?"

"Of course!" was her cheerful reply. "We shouldn't keep for another day what we could do for today, and that apple pie tasted really heavenly! And besides, you promised, right? Please...?"

_'I didn't think it'd be for right after...'_ I thought, though I let out a weak laugh. "Oh all right..." I said finally, "let's get on with it."

"Yeah! I promise to do my best, teacher!"

I let the remark slip, even though I told her earlier not to address me as such. _'I guess it's okay...'_

For the next two hours or so, we spent the time baking. Milfeulle proved to be an attentive and quick learner; it took only one try for her to make an exact-looking replica of my delicacy.

"This is great! It's even better than how I make it!" I lauded after sampling a piece.

She laughed modestly. "I just thought of adding some stuff in; I'm glad you like it."

I laughed as well. "I think I'm the one who should be taking lessons from you, then," I said, earnestly meaning just that. "Did you have any formal lessons, might I ask?"

"Not really," she replied, "well, you can say I just learn from experience and watching others, especially on the TV. And I also love to experiment a lot,"

"You mean you have a natural talent for it?"

She just blushed and laughed sheepishly.

"This tastes good..." a voice sounded suddenly beside us. Milfeulle screamed and jumped in surprise, while I just waved and answered, "You think so too, Vanilla?"

She just nodded and continued eating her piece.

After regaining her composure, which didn't take all that long, Milfeulle continued our discussion. "How about you, Jai? Where'd you learn to cook so well?"

A slight shadow crossed my eyes. I wasn't privy to answering questions about my personal life, especially my past, but I gave her an honest answer; the shadow was gone just a second after it had appeared. I even laughed a little. "Much like you, I guess...through experimentation and reading."

"Then that makes us the same, then," she concluded, smiling. I wasn't sure if she had noticed my sudden change in demeanor, or if my answer was enough. All the same, I gave a relieved chuckle.

"Yeah, you could say that..."

She took a bite out her slice of pie before asking, "If I may ask...how come you were transferred to Angel Brigade? It seems very unusual. But, ah, it's okay if that information's classified. I'm just curious. You don't have to tell me."

Still, even with all her mentioning that it wasn't all that important, it seemed that she genuinely wanted to know.

"Well, far as I'm aware of, that's not classified info. It's pretty silly, if you ask me. Our department head at Spec-Ops lost a wager, and he bet me into Angel Brigade. I tolerate it but I think this time was a little overboard."

I had thought she would find the whole thing despicable; I was only too surprised when she began laughing heartily. "That's kind of like what Commander Volcott might do!"

_'Volcott!_ _The very same hero mentioned in the military journals?'_ I thought with incredulity. I had read many stories about the man, and even remember meeting him in person twice or thrice at the academy, even before I was at Spec-Ops. At the time I supposed he was an associate of the general, maybe an old friend, but I wasn't sure; I didn't really give the matter much attention. I knew that he was stationed here as well, perhaps he even was the one responsible for the formation of Angel Unit, but I'd never think he'd be one to act so...foolishly.

"Oh, but he's a good and honest man, really," Milfeulle said, probably after noticing my confused look. "And I'm sure that your department head had his reasons as well."

_'Reasons...yeah, right...as if...'_ I thought amusedly, remembering my talk with him before I had left for Angel HQ.

"Everything has a reason for happening. It's the will of God..." Vanilla said softly, after having just finished another slice of the dessert.

"You think so?" I commented, reflecting on the point at the same time. I couldn't think up a single reason for my transferal other than to follow the conditions of the lousy bet of an old fool.

But all the same, my stay until this point has been surprisingly refreshing, aside from being also very different.

_'Never imagined I'd be chatting about cooking and causative theory in a casual day before...was this a good thing, though?' _

"Yeah, well...it's not all that bad, I guess," I concluded, though not really sure of myself. I was starting to worry about whether too much time had been spent on unimportant things; I usually only allocated a few hours to my so-called extra-curricular activities before going back to training or the like.

Perhaps the worry showed on my face, as Vanilla looked at me, though still with an indifferent expression in her eyes, and spoke. "Relax. Breathe. Worry will only stress both the body and soul."

I sighed. _'Yeah, I guess that's right...'_ I thought. "Thanks. I needed that," I told her.

She just nodded, and then put her saucer away and left the room.

"Well, that's a...different side of her..." I said after a long silence.

Milfeulle looked at me. "Isn't she always like that? I think she was just being more like herself. It's better that way, isn't it?"

"You're right about that..." I replied, "How about you? What would you say would be acting more like yourself?"

"Me? Hmmm..." she thought for awhile, rubbing her chin and furrowing her brow. Finally, she said, "I like cooking. I also enjoy shopping and going on missions with my friends. But I'd hate to see anybody sad or get hurt, even if it's an enemy. I'm sure they have feelings as well, right? And I guess I'd try to do everything I can to always keep everyone smiling."

I waited for her to catch her breath before answering. "Isn't that kind of generic?"

"I guess so. But then I really can't describe it very well. Someone else would have to say for themselves."

"Okay...let's put it this way. If it were you instead of Vanilla talking earlier, what would you say?"

"Well now...let's see..." again, she contemplated for a while before replying, "I guess I'd say...'It doesn't matter what the reason might have been for your transferring here. What's more important is that you're still alive and well. In fact, I'm glad you were reinstated here, since you kept us company and taught me how to make delicious apple pie and had a good time as well. So don't worry about it. Everything will turn out fine'." I just looked at her almost as if in a trance while she spoke.

"How was that?" she asked afterwards.

"I feel much better after hearing it, actually," I answered, putting away the other used dishes as she kept the rest of the pie in the refrigerator. "I guess I'm going to go rest up for now...thanks, Milfeulle." I said, leaving the dining room.

"Okay. Have a nice sleep," she called out.

It was only after I fell on the bed that I noticed how late it was already.

_End of flashback_

--------------------

_'I wonder how they could be so carefree...'_ were my last thoughts as I drifted off to a deep sleep.


	5. Additions

**A/N: **Avery sincere apology for those who've waited for an update of this story...it's been another YEAR...again. More than. This is actually way, way, overdue. My PC motherboard went down a few months ago...good thing we were able to retrieve the data. Anywho...

**Shadowzero** – thanks for the 'mail. Haha...sorry again for the late update...circumstances...

**Ultimaclaw** – Well, good on having your own PC. And thanks lots for the review.

_edited:_ All the percent signs won't show up, so I had to type in the words...

Ah, well...there. Many thanks! Without further ado...enjoy!

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**CHAPTER 5**

Additions

--------------------

The early hours of the next day found me tinkering around with my ship, the Avatar. The hangar, though spacious enough for around eight or nine small vessels such as mine, was nowhere near the size of the one at Spec-Ops, which could easily hold more than thrice the number.

_'Let's see...the auxiliary thrusters could use a tad more energy influx from Source 2...the boys back at Spec-Ops must've re-routed some to the main engine for that long journey to here. No wonder it felt a little different...'_ I was so absorbed in my thoughts and work that I didn't notice someone enter until she was only three feet away from me, where she had stopped walking.

"Oh hello, Vanilla," I greeted, turning my head to look at her, though my place from underneath the twin auxiliary control panel near the ship's posterior made it a little difficult.

She said nothing in reply, merely nodding; she held the pink stuffed toy she had picked out earlier close to her.

"You're really fond of that stuffed toy, aren't you?" I asked her, practically stating the obvious. She nodded again and, in almost a whisper, said, "Yes, I am," in response. That was the most I've seen her show any affection, and the sight was rather endearing.

I gingerly made my way out of the craft's under-chassis and wiped my rather dirty face with an old but clean towel. "And what brings you here, huh?" I asked good-naturedly. It was unusual for her to come all the way out to the hangar, especially lately, with no missions assigned yet.

"I was going out for a practice flight," she stated simply, beginning to walk towards her light-green craft, the Harvester.

"Oh, okay," I replied. Then, almost as an afterthought, I asked. "Mind if I join you a bit?"

She didn't slow or even look back at me, though her reply came after a few seconds. "Of course." It almost sounded as if she was wondering why I still had to ask for her permission.

I blinked twice before shrugging. There were some modifications to the ship I had just installed that I wanted to try out anyway.

A few minutes saw us both ready to launch. As we boarded our crafts, Milfeulle's voice sounded over the PA system, "You're both going out for awhile?"

She was in the bridge, I concluded. "Yeah, just for test flight. We won't be long," I replied.

"Okay, have fun, you two! I'll have breakfast ready by the time you get back!" And with those words, she opened the hangar doors and we sped out.

--------------------

Avatar was an especially light ship, with only one medium laser cannon as a primary weapon and dual sub-machineguns as secondary. But what the craft lacked in firepower, it made up easily in agility and handling. Sporting one of the best engines ever engineered by the genius "Mechanical Engineering Cargo and Hangar Aficionados" or MECHAs, also known as the cargo crew, at Spec-Ops – with most of its parts salvaged from other ships at that – the vessel had incredible speed and acceleration. The two pairs of auxiliary thrusters, also MECHA originals, were more mobile than the standard, providing superior control even at high velocities, allowing the ship to instantaneously move in any direction. It has been my assigned craft since day one of my Transvaal military service, and now seems like an extension of my own body, my own consciousness.

Sleek black too, my favorite color.

Quite frankly, the only other people I trusted it with were my hangar friends at Spec-Ops, the craft's creators. They truly were the geniuses they claimed to be.

The thruster modifications I made were working perfectly as I maneuvered tight turns and complicated spirals. The area was literally deserted, giving us more free space to fly around in, a greater sense of freedom. For once, I felt I wasn't limited to the confines of...anything at all while training. Back at Spec-Ops, I was only allowed to experiment and perform the more difficult maneuvers in virtual simulation, the maximum settings of which were too sluggish compared with those that Avatar was easily capable of.

After a particularly complex flight sequence, I paused to see how my companion was doing. To my surprise, Harvester only hovered near the hangar bay, almost as if she hadn't moved at all after we had launched, and that was more than several minutes ago.

"Hey, Vanilla, what's..." The question I was going to ask stopped in my throat as she dispatched numerous nanomachines, which floated in the space around her. "...that?" I finished feebly. Was she meaning to attack me all of a sudden?

Her face appeared on a communication link. "Don't move...don't be afraid," was all she said before the mechanical monstrosities surged forward, straight for me.

"What?!" Considerable distance separated us, more than enough for me to swerve out of the way and start blasting the minute orbs; that was my first impulse, anyway. Instead, however, I contented myself to simply stay put, and watch in disbelief. In a few seconds, Avatar was surrounded.

It was probably the first time I had gotten myself into a situation without an escape plan. Covert and Spec-Ops missions were usually stealth, assassination, surveillance, and sometimes rescue operations where speed and cunning were more important than brute force or firepower. In several of those missions, in more than my fair share it seems, I had knowingly stepped into an enemy trap as a decoy, sometimes even just for the heck of it when I was feeling a little more adventurous. In all of those times, I was able to strategize a way to escape, or, at the very least, improvise well enough to get out without any major damage.

_'Yep...now is definitely not one of those times,'_ I thought. Strangely, my reaction was devoid of any emotion, even fear. I wondered detachedly if that was what it felt like to simply accept something – one doesn't particularly feel...anything.

The nanomachines slowly approached – crowded around – my craft, as if I were prey that could bolt at any moment. A few even hovered right in front of the thick, armor-glass pane, seemingly scrutinizing me despite heavy black tint. Most of the others assembled towards the sides and aft, especially close to the engine and thrusters.

_'What could these things be doing...?'_ Absolutely nothing was amiss with Avatar; I saw to that since this morning. Then again...

_'...wait a minute...?'_ The small contraptions, now that they were close enough to see clearly, were unlike any I had ever encountered before. Most other nanomachine pods were built as either weapons, mounted with either a small laser or cannon of some sort, or repairers, with fixed probes or some other mending device. These particular pods seemed to serve neither purpose, as they had...a tiny needle each?

Closer scrutiny confirmed my observations. All of the nanomachines were armed with a miniature syringe, filled with some sort of greenish-blue liquid, pointed squarely at my ship...or me.

_'Am I the target? I don't think the external plates are impenetrable...unless...'_

Movement of the nanomachines stopped my train of thought. Almost simultaneously, each one surged forward. Their impact on Avatar was not strong enough to move the ship an inch, nor produce any audible sound, but even then, I could sense something happening; probably the infusion – or injection would perhaps be a more suitable word – of whatever substance they were carrying. The entire outer ship seemed to glow faintly only for a second...

...and then, silence. Nothing seemed to happen after, even when the nanomachines had pulled back and returned to Vanilla's ship.

A minute passed. Two. The stillness would have been noticeably drawn-out, had I not been too baffled to actually take note.

Vanilla's sudden appearance on the com-link brought me back. "Notice anything different?" She asked, almost casually.

"Different...?" I realized that I had been sitting like a fool for more than a couple of minutes; I hadn't even tried to move my ship. "Uh..." I stated, rather idiotically.

Funny...I don't usually lose myself this easily...

I took one deep breath, finally regaining my senses, before trying to maneuver around.

_'She's right...something seems...different somehow...'_ I mused, gingerly testing Avatar's movements. The craft seemed more responsive and easier to handle, hard as it was to believe; it seemed my former conclusion of being truly one with my craft wasn't all that accurate after all.

"The maneuvering systems are much more responsive than before; lag time between commands is incredibly shortened!" I reported, only half-aware of what I was actually saying. I began to speed up, becoming more and more confident, zooming around in the surrounding space. "Top speed is improved by almost 150 percent!" A quick scan of the weapons systems showed a 20 percent increase in the range of the main laser cannon, 10 percent capacity of the dual sub-machineguns, and an almost double power value for both.

The boosts in speed, maneuverability and firepower would take some time to get used to again, since I was so accustomed to piloting at the former settings; they were definitely welcome improvements. _'This is incredible!'_ I thought ecstatically.

I brought Avatar to a stop in front of Harvester. "This was because of those nanomachines, isn't it, and that strange liquid? And, if I'm not mistaken, those were some sort of Lost Technology; am I right, Vanilla?" I asked, not unpleasantly.

She nodded. "Unlike most of the others, this particular one has known function, and is useful for us."

"So there have been numerous findings of Lost Technology already..." I wondered out loud. At first I had thought that these things referred to as 'Lost Technology' were the stuff of legends and tall tales – incredible yet close to unattainable, or impossible to find, if they even ever existed. If one was able to vastly improve the capabilities of a ship, I could only wonder what the others could do...

The sudden appearance of a com-link on the screen disturbed my thinking. "Well then if that's the case, you can start handing them over now!" The face that came into view was that of a male in his late thirties – very smug and raucous, though not exactly haggard. His craft looked poorly-tuned and out of shape, not really outfitted with any kind of damaging weaponry or gear – at most a medium rifle, minimal armor plating, and one dual-engine working only at about half-capacity due to lack of maintenance.

He was probably the leader of some little-known space-gang or the sort – definitely the kind not really worth bothering with much.

What caused my brow to arch a bit was the emergence of four other ships around his – equally ill-equipped generic scraps of scavenged parts, shabbily put together. One of them, however, sported a rather new-looking radar-jamming device, either stolen or leeched from the black market, which was probably why none of us was able to detect them until they decided to show.

"Vanilla, please inform Milfeulle to set shields up to maximum, just to be sure; things might get out of hand. But also tell her not to worry, will you please? You can go back now and just watch; I'll handle these goons," I whispered to my companion. Thankfully, she complied without protest, Harvester slipping back into the hangar discreetly yet quickly.

"No bloodshed," she said before disappearing from sight.

"As long as I can help it..." I replied under my breath.

I didn't know she was still listening, and gave a start when her voice answered back, "You will."

Sigh. _'Guess I'll have to...'_

"Hey; one of them hightailed it, boss!" One of the thugs yelled. He made an attempt to pursue Harvester, but I deftly moved in front of him, cutting him off.

"Now you know it's not nice to recklessly engage in fights you're bound to lose. I suggest you all just leave peacefully, and nobody needs to get beaten up."

The ringleader laughed. "We are the Pale Raiders, chump. We don't take orders from anybody, especially not from prissy-boys like you. That there's a mighty beaut of a ship, chock-full of delicious goodies just ripe for the picking, and now that you mention something of a lost technology or something, now that's gotta be worth millions! And we're gonna be taking it whether you like it or not!" A round of cheers sounded after his monologue, as if on cue.

I gave one thoughtful look at the ship, pleased to see the shields up and running, then turned to the gang with a skeptic frown. "I suppose you wouldn't try barging in. A knock at the front door would probably get you guys nowhere anyway."

"Like hell we're that stupid! Besides, we've got just the thing for disabling sensors and radars and all that stuff. State-of-the-art, straight from MainLabs! Like no way anyone'll be stopping us now!"

_'The jammer is good only when you're not in visual range,'_ I thought sarcastically, but said, "Want to make sure of that?" and flared my boosters.

The leader snorted. "You're really asking for it, cheeky-boy! My patience is up! Get him!"

I was taken aback, though I couldn't tell whether pleasantly so or otherwise, when they mobilized. The machines were apparently more capable than they looked; their outward appearances of scrap metal betrayed their acceleration and speed, at least, though neither matched the Avatar; I soon found myself dodging gunfire – at least I was right about the weapons being little more than minor nuisances.

_'Maybe those things aren't as poorly-maintained after all...' _I was smiling despite my miscalculations.

It was fortunate as well for me that the pilots' abilities were, to put it lightly, horrendously lacking. Most of their shots missed altogether, and they looked hard-pressed to execute even basic maneuvers. One of them, however, the pilot of the radar-carrying craft, showed more tact by hanging back and generally watching the battle.

A secure-link communication, invisible to any and all other ships, popped-up onscreen. Such links weren't easy to activate, and I temporarily lost focus. "Who is this?" I asked when I had regained composure. The fellow was rugged, moderately-built, though definitely more respectable-looking; one of the other gang members, I supposed, even if he really didn't look like he fit in – especially with those glasses. I guessed he was of a rather well-to-do status, probably formerly, and about my age, if not a bit older.

He spoke in a surprisingly fluent accent, though his voice was clipped, worried. "Begging your pardon for the sudden skirmish, and even more for dividing your attention like this. You are of the Transvaal military, correct? I surmised as much from the markings on your ships, though I am quite certain none of the others are aware at all."

I could fairly concentrate on doing both battle and conversation at the same time; another skill developed at my former squad. "I take it you're not that...bonded with these other hoodlums. Who are you?"

"Roen Jenning, sir, and I've only been around with this gang for one week and forty hours, Earth-time, and not entirely of my own liking; it was a matter of life and death at the time, you see, basically with my life on the line."

"Uh huh..." I nodded. By this time, three of the enemy ships had been disabled and unfit for combat – meaning I had blown their installed weapons into useless debris. They fled beleaguered amidst various curses.

The gang head was foaming at the mouth. "I will not take you taking me for a fool, you fool! You may have let my boys run, but I'll not back off!" He yelled, taking aim with his rifle.

"You could try to unhinge his rifle by aiming just above the gun's scope before taking him out. There should be a clear view of the mounting axis even from directly in front..." Roen counseled.

I needed no more advice than that. Only a second passed when I had the crosshairs of a sub-machinegun trained on the inch above the scope and let loose three rounds. Before he could even execute his own attack, the pirate boss' weapon was completely detached from his ship.

He looked bewildered. "What in the...whoa!" A beam from my own cannon grazed past his right side, actually leaving a large gash in the outer plating. If that didn't scare him, nothing would.

The next time his face appeared onscreen, it looked a mix of panic and rage even as he began to back off. "Cheap moves, you cheat! The Pale Raiders owe you a beating for this! Don't think I'll forget! And you, Ro! Just sitting there watching! What good did you do?!"

Roen smiled sarcastically. "Hey, sorry chief. Wouldn't want this piece of expensive equipment damaged now, right?"

"Oh, that's it huh? Well you're now officially dismissed, you hear me? You're no longer a Raider! Stay there and get massacred for all I care!" He then sped off in a hurry, a coward trying to save face.

"The captain's pretty generous, really," Roen mused, smiling, "he even left us a present before leaving. Pity, he left pretty quickly; he didn't even see the modifications I made to this vessel."

His craft began to shift suddenly after he spoke – panels and parts moved and relocated seemingly through their own will. Slowly, piece by piece, it began to change structure. I could only stare in amazement as I saw what was once a rickety junk heap transform into what looked like one of the most high-performance and classy, though heavyset, machines I had ever set eyes on. A gray chrome undercoat with several white flashes adorned the dense plating. Though the ship had no weapons as of now, there were a few attachment sites for heavy short-range missiles. But perhaps the most inimitable implements were the radar interceptor underneath the hull, and a large, mechanical, three-pronged "arm" on the right side, which was now flexing to retrieve the discarded rifle. I surmised the ship was designed for close combat.

"That's impressive," I said approvingly, referring to both the craft's transformation and its current appearance.

"Isn't it? Made entirely from scrap parts, from scratch! Except for the signal interceptor, err, radar jammer, though," There was evident thrill in his voice. "The metamorphosis was rather difficult to program, but was necessary to keep the Raiders unawares."

"From scratch...in one week?" I queried, remembering his earlier explanations.

Though a little subdued, his tone was still full of pride. "Yes, well, three days actually, give or take one or two more for all the calculations for the adjunct claw."

_'The guy's a genius!'_ I wondered, _'This could only mean...'_

I replied almost nonchalantly, "You must be the missing son of the..."

"Don't even mention it!" He abruptly cut me off. "That's...a different matter altogether..."

"Is it now? Look, you may be older than me by a bit, but I have the jurisdiction of the Transvaal military. I could turn you in at any time. There are a lot of people looking for you."

He shifted to a defensive position, shouting. "Then let them look! Being stuck in that place is a fate worse than hell, if you ask me; I'm never going back!" He then added in a softer tone, "Should've figured you'd know that kind of classified information, being a top military officer."

The standstill lasted a few seconds, a tense silence in space.

I sighed, then paused a moment before saying, "You don't have a place to stay, right?"

He seemed surprised at the comment. "What? Uh, well, yes...that's right..."

"Okay; I'm offering you to stay here with us at the Angel Brigade HQ. I won't try to delve into what happened, nor will I consider having you returned. All you have to do is act casually, be yourself, relax, and take orders only from me. Is that understood?"

I could see he either had trouble digesting what I had just told him, or couldn't believe it, since he just stared at his screen with a startled expression. "Of course, you could try looking someplace else on your own..."

"No!" His reply was both relief and panic. "No...I could agree with your terms."

"Very well. Now, let's get back to the ship. I believe we're..."

Just then, another com-link appeared and I was greeted by a cheerful voice. "Jai! Breakfast is ready! I think I did a good job on the apple juice this time; I know it's your favorite. Vanilla and I will be waiting for you, so hurry back!" Milfeulle was oblivious to the other, secure, link on my screen the entire time.

"What about her, uh," he started.

"Oh, excuse me. Colonel Jai Akira. And please, don't call me Colonel Akira. Milfeulle and Vanilla are okay; you could trust them completely. They're my first lieutenants."

"Sure, Jai; they're yours," he sniggered, emphasizing the 'yours'. It sure didn't take him long to adjust.

"Very funny. Let's get a move on before the food gets cold."

_'Now I guess there are two vagabonds in Angel Unit...' _

--------------------

Introductions were made over breakfast (Roen's past being left out, of course); Roen was a little reserved, Milfeulle was just glad to make a new friend, and Vanilla was as stoic as before. Soon, we were chatting as if we had known each other for a long time.

After the breakfast dishes had been put away, Milfeulle suddenly gave a start. "Oh, that's right, there was a message this morning while all of you were out having fun."

_'Having fun...?'_ I thought. "What did it say?"

"We've got to get this place fixed up. The other members of Angel Brigade are coming back in two days."


	6. Upkeep and Care

**A/N: **Immensely late update. Had this done for almost a year I think, and kept forgetting to upload.

**Selryam** - Yup; I've seen a lot of change in my writing over the years. Haha...hopefully this fic will progress to completion soon enough. Been following the 'characterization' of the anime as much as I can remember...been a while since I've actually watched GA.

Next chapter. GO!

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**CHAPTER 6**

Upkeep and Care

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_"The other members of Angel Brigade are coming back in two days."_

_"Two days?!" This girl had a way of making me choke on my drink often._

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That was this morning. Technically – if all went according to schedule, that is – the rest of the crew would be back the day after tomorrow.

We had decided on an early start in getting the work done. At first, the task of 'fixing up the place' seemed daunting. The onboard mechanical maintenance bots, which were in charge of keeping the ship spotless, were also sent on leave for the month with the rest. While not exactly filthy, the entire ship needed a good polishing-up.

"What do bots need days off for?" I had asked incredulously; the two Angels just shrugged. "Well, there's no time to lose if that's the case..."

Fortunately, the mechanics whiz voiced a suggestion. "I could program service bots for us, provided there're at least bots to program...?"

"I believe the previous models are kept in storage," Vanilla said, "they might have missing parts, though."

"I'm sure we'll be able to improvise," Roen replied, already beginning to writing data code on his palmtop. "Lead the way. This shouldn't take an hour."

Vanilla nodded, and we all followed her through the ship's corridors.

"Funny," I remarked to Milfeulle; Vanilla and Roen were some ways ahead. "I don't remember seeing any storage room around here."

"Oh, Vanilla was talking about the big storage room, the one used to store really old stuff and things like that."

_'What other use could a storage room have?' _I thought.

She continued. "You see, it's kinda hidden because that's where we put some of the other Lost Technology that's already been found."

"Okay," I said pensively, remembering the Lost Technology Vanilla used on the Avatar, and what the effects were. "So not even you guys know that much about them, huh?"

"That's right...oh here we are," she declared as we stopped at what looked like an odd portion of discolored wall.

_'No wonder that part was a bit darker than the rest...but where's the locking device?'_

Vanilla approached a wastebasket close to the 'wall'. Reaching inside, she procured a small box made of cardboard. She opened it, and pressed a red button clearly marked 'DO NOT PUSH'. Instantly, the entire discolored segment began to slide upward, revealing a massive room beyond.

I guessed Roen looked as surprised as I did, and for the same reason as he muttered, "Now how in the universe was that button able to work?"

"There are things..." the cyan-haired Angel replied, calmly placing the box back, "...that do not need a reason to be." If anything, Roen looked even more puzzled, but he just shrugged and continued making computations.

In the enormous space were lined rows and rows of storage shelves at least thirty feet high. Floor lamps served as illumination; looking up, the light faded into nothingness and obscured the ceiling from view – one was given the impression that there wasn't any ceiling at all.

_'That'd be a perfect spot to keep hidden...'_ I thought, _'...if anybody could find get in here in the first place.' _

"Hey, it's been ages since we last visited this place!" Milfeulle pondered out loud.

"Haven't found any Lost Technology lately?" I asked. It looked kind of obvious, since the entire Unit, save these two girls, were on leave.

"It's not that. In fact, we were able to find this really cute hat about a week ago...you wouldn't think it was Lost Technology; it makes you very smart, but also ruins your hair...oh, not to mention it shrinks on top of your head the longer you wear it! But anyway, we keep the recent ones we find at another storage place."

Milfeulle continued to chat as we explored the room; sometimes recalling when this object was used, or when that thing was still in the bridge; sometimes trying to put into words the purpose of an item of Lost Technology – none of us dared try in action; I'd warned against that, besides.

"There..." finally came Vanilla's announcement. She was pointing upwards, at one of the middle-level shelves, about ten feet from the floor. Two service droids were stacked against each other; both looked out of service for a long time, probably a year or so, but neither was badly damaged – slightly out of tune, at worst. At least all their parts were intact.

Roen nodded in approval. "Those will do very well indeed! XR-8I and 9I models, unless I am very much mistaken, phased out only late last year. Hmmm...one doesn't seem to have any levitation function, but I'm sure that could be remedied in good time...yes..." he ended up mumbling to himself while still typing into his palmtop, eyeing the bots analytically every now and then.

"So..." I commented, looking around, "how are we going to get those things down?"

Both Angels looked at each other pensively for a moment. "Oh, I remember!" Milfeulle said finally. Expecting an explanation of a procedure of some sort, I gaped in surprise when she began running. "We haven't turned on the ceiling lights yet!"

I looked up when she disappeared from sight; it was as dark as before. "There really are ceiling lights here?"

Vanilla nodded, her eyes closed. "And something else you cannot see yet besides."

I frowned and looked up again. Still blackness. _'Something I can't see...?'_

There was the sound of what seemed like the click of a switch – a big switch – and suddenly the entire room was flooded with bright light. I had to shield my eyes with an arm from the glare.

"Shee cripes!" Roen cursed. Peering cautiously a few seconds after, I saw that he had done the same as me. Only Vanilla seemed unfazed, still with her eyes closed. "Uh...pardon..." he stammered, embarrassment and shock clearly visible on his face, "I just...didn't expect there to be light all of a sudden."

I waved off his apology and squinted upwards. Ignoring the still slightly stinging light, I gaped at what I saw: an enormous crane suspended by heavy chains and bolts. Despite its size, there was more than enough leeway that it hung at a distance above from even the topmost shelves.

For a brief moment, I felt like a toy in one of those crane-machines I had seen at the arcades...

"Perhaps you can see it now..." Vanilla remarked.

_'Oh boy, do I ever...if none of us sensed something that huge up there...what was that I thinking earlier about a 'perfect hiding place'...?' _I nodded.

Milfeulle's voice sounded over a speaker system. "Uh, well, that's the moving crane you guys can probably see..."

_'How could we miss it now?'_ I thought ironically.

"...but the controls don't seem to be working. They're not stuck, and the power's running just fine...I can't figure out what's wrong here..." she sounded sincerely desperate.

Roen, who was also looking upward, scratched his head. "I guess I could probably get this thing to work as well..." If I guessed right, the gleam in his eye was one of fascination, and not frustration.

We all agreed that it was not a bad suggestion. Vanilla led him to the control room while I stayed behind; it was all too easy to lose track of the bots again in the vastness of the room. _'This place could use a lot of organization...' _though the task would probably take more than a few months to accomplish.

"Oh, where did everybody go?"

"Roen's going to get the crane fixed, and...what are those?" I turned to see Milfeulle carrying a retractable ladder and what looked like a humungous basket...made of straw...the one used for picnics.

"That's wonderful!" She exclaimed. "Then I guess we won't be needing these then." She tossed the objects aside.

"Don't tell me..." I ventured, "...you were going to suggest me climbing up that ladder and hauling the bots down using the basket, am I right?"

"Well...I'm sure you would have been able to do it," she said, and laughed in response.

I could only imagine the stroke of luck that Roen had come along with us.

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It was after dinnertime. Vanilla, as usual, quietly returned to her room without a word after eating; Roen went to do a final systems check on the improved operating system he installed to the ship before calling it a night. I was in the middle of washing dishes, and Milfeulle just finished brewing a mocha espresso.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help you with those, Jai?" She asked, sounding a little concerned.

"Yes," I replied for at least the third time. "We all agreed on a schedule, right? Besides, you don't want me helping you when you wash, so fair's fair."

"I guess..." She smiled, and took a sip. "This is nice; I didn't know we had an espresso machine in the storage room."

After Roen had repaired the busted crane controls – problem with the wiring being chewed through by rats and all, he explained – we were able to get the outdated service bots down more quickly and less hazardously that it would have been had Milfeulle's ladder-and-basket method been used. As it turned out, operating the crane was a lot like playing one of those similar, though small-scale, machines at the arcade...or so Roen told me; he was as giddy as a kid in a toy store. It took no more than a quarter hour to program the service bots; the mechanical genius happily announced that he even added some new features like the hover command, a faster operating speed, and longer-lasting energy cells.

And indeed the bots worked efficiently, clearing the entire ship of dust in a matter of approximately seven hours – not a speck was visible in any of the rooms by late afternoon.

In the meantime, we had all worked on different aspects of the ship: Roen upgraded the ship O.S.; Milfeulle and Vanilla rummaged through some of the other items in storage – the espresso blender was only one of the useful items they procured; I busied myself getting the hangar in order. Needless to say, it was a rather tiring, yet very productive, day.

My dish washing was almost done. "So, why are the other members of Angel Brigade coming back earlier than expected?" I asked. We weren't yet informed of the reason, I realized; only Milfeulle had read the sent message.

"You know, I'm not really sure myself," she said thoughtfully, "not everyone is coming back yet, though...I think only Forte, Mint and Ranpha. There's no word from or about Commander Volcott. They said they were worried that something might have happened because it's only Vanilla and me here."

"Hey! I'm here, right?"

"Oh, right! And they're excited to meet you as well," she laughed, "the memo of your transfer came only after they had left, so they got the news late."

_'Well, it figures they'd be a little apprehensive...'_ I thought, wiping the last dish dry. "There! That's finished..."

When I turned around, there was a cup of steaming chocolate held out in front of me.

"I made you one. Try it; it's really nice," Milfeulle was all smiles as she handed me the brew.

"Uh, well then, thanks," I stuttered, taking the proffered cup and sipping lightly. "Wow, this IS good; sweet but not overly so, nice frothy mixture with just a hint of bitter aftertaste. Maybe I'd..."

"...try experimenting with the espresso machine," we both said at the same time, though hers sounded like a question. After a brief silence, the initial wonderment, we both laughed heartily.

"Oh so you're a mind reader now, huh?" I said good-naturedly.

"You said so yourself before," her smile never faded for a moment, "I can read you like an open book."

I was beginning to wonder whether all my training at Covert and Spec-Ops was all for naught...

...though I really didn't mind at all this time. In fact, it gave me a kind of pleasant feeling.

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**A/N:** Truth be told, I have no idea what the ultimate plot of this story is. Haha. Just stuff I guess. Well, we'll see... Thanks! Please R&R!


	7. Day Out

**A/N: **Another VERY long-delayed update. I've been concentrating considerably more on my Vandread fic. Still, managed to get this written.

**October Autumn** - Here 'ya go...sorry for the monstrously LATE update...

This is sort of another, well, filler I guess. Basically just stuff before the rest of the gang arrives. Enjoy!

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**CHAPTER 7**

Day Out

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"Wake up, sleepyhead!"

_'When did my alarm clock learn to talk...?' _I thought groggily. It read 07:52 before I realized the sound didn't come from it; in fact, no sound seemed to come from it today.

_'I forgot to set my alarm last night?!'_ I was a bit more awake this time. Mornings usually started for me at four or five, when the others were, more often than not, still sleeping. To have woken up at almost eight in the morning was truly bizarre!

I scratched my head, feeling a little hazy. _'What the heck could I have done that I'm...'_ And then understanding dawned slowly, like walking into a glass wall in slow motion. Still, it was like walking into a glass wall; that's what mattered. _'...the espresso must've had something to do with it, or something. Should've checked it for excess caffeine...'_ But that didn't make any sense either; I couldn't have fallen asleep as quickly as I did last night had there been too much caffeine in the drink. I was still NOT thinking straight.

Thankfully, moving to a sitting position and ultimately getting out of bed after a few minutes wasn't all that difficult. Milfeulle's cheery announcement that "breakfast is ready" helped motivate me; I found that I was a tad hungrier than in usual mornings. I bathed, dressed, and made my way to the dining room as quickly as I could manage; it was to my surprise, and satisfaction, that I found I moved faster with each activity, as if the earlier sluggishness was ebbing away.

The three were already gathered at the table, happily munching away at a sort of salad probably prepared by Vanilla. There was also some apple pie left over from yesterday; there always seemed to be apple pie at the table these days, no matter what the meal or time of day. Even more surprisingly, there always seemed to be something different about it every time – a touch more cinnamon, a little less sugar, thicker or thinner filling; things that were just barely noticeable – each variation had its own appeal, its own unique charm, and none was inferior to any other; in fact, they were all excellent.

No doubt Milfeulle had been practicing...and doing a good job at it. I had expected no less.

"Anybody have any plans for today?" Milfeulle asked cheerfully.

Roen was the first to answer; he was still dressed in sleeping clothes. "Yeah, actually, I'll have to keep a close eye on the systems for another twenty-four to forty-eight hours. I've found some discrepancies in the O.S. performance since yesterday, which is ticking me off. Can't seem to put my finger exactly on what the problem is…"

Knowing his expertise, it was either a very complicated matter or something to do with Lost Technology being exceedingly unpredictable.

Vanilla only nodded and, having finished her breakfast, cleaned up her plate and walked towards her room.

"Oh," Milfeulle looked disappointed, "how about you, Jai?"

I thought for a moment; there were no tasks outstanding for the day...though it could still just be my not thinking straight. "No, I believe I'm free for the day," I ended up saying.

She brightened up almost instantly. "That's wonderful! You could come with me and get welcome presents for everyone!"

"Welcome presents...?" I asked pensively; the idea was a little confusing. "Shouldn't they be the ones bringing stuff for us instead...like a souvenir or something from where they've been?"

"That's fine too, but I'd at least like them to have something nice waiting for them when they get back."

Again I set to mulling for a while, and replied, "That's thoughtful of you..."

"Isn't it?" She had a big smile on her face. "So, you'll come along? Please?"

I shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

I could've sworn my morning idiocy was all but gone by the time I said those words.

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"Hey Jai, could I ride in the Avatar with you?"

The hangar was empty save for the two of us, and her voice echoed throughout the area even though I was only a few steps ahead of her, right in front of the ship being referred to.

The question was puzzling. "Aren't you taking your Lucky Star like the last time we went out?"

"Oh, I thought I'd feel what it's like with you piloting a ship. I've watched you practice all those maneuvers some time back, and your ship looks like it moves very differently from mine, and, well, I wondered what it'd be like..." she sounded more and more embarrassed as she went on with her explanation, her voice shrinking with each word.

I was pleased at the praise she was giving the Avatar and my skills, but I didn't really execute barrel rolls and convoluted turns regularly on leisure transport flights.

Still, there was no reason for me not to...

"Okay," I assented. Her face brightened up immediately; she looked ecstatic.

"Really?! Oh thank you! You're so wonderful!" She flung herself at me in a big, warm embrace.

"Wh-!!!" I caught her easily, but the situation was not one I was readily accustomed to; I could only stand paralyzed in surprise.

_'Wonderful...?"_

At that moment, Roen was walking past the hangar, and just happened to peer inside. I noticed him stare for a moment then wink and give a thumbs-up, as well as an impish grin.

_'That idiot genius is so going to get it later...' _I thought, in a strange moment of clarity.

Milfeulle pried herself away from me, seemingly with an effort. "Thanks again...I hope it wouldn't be too much of an inconvenience..."

"It's fine..." I replied.

Though normally a one-person ship, the Avatar's interior could be adjusted to accommodate two people; both persons would be seated beside one another – one on the main seat, and the other on an extension to the right.

"Well, there we go," I said after adjusting the seat. "Uh, make yourself comfortable."

She climbed inside after me, trying to look at everything at once. "Wow; this is so much different than in the Angel frames..."

"I'd imagine it might be, since the Avatar is custom-built by me and the hangar crew at Spec-Ops," I explained, reaching past her to close the aperture. The extension seat also had a backrest and safety harness, so it was secure as well.

"This is so exciting!" She exclaimed as the launch sequence initiated.

Though I didn't say anything, I had the exact same sentiment.

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"Oh! Mint would just adore this! And this one would look so good on Ranpha!" Milfeulle was as giddy as...well, as the proverbial kid-in-a-candy-store. Only that this was the women's fashion department, and we were not kids...anymore...me, at least.

Perhaps it was an utter obliviousness to the situation then that I was able to stand in the store without feeling any embarrassment. Sure, all the other customers were female – but that was to be expected. Shirts, jackets, blouses and even underwear and lingerie of all colors and sizes were on plain display – of course, this WAS a clothing store. I was the one holding the basket of the things we were going to buy – it was only right since I didn't want Milfeulle to have a hard time; I wasn't the one going around and choosing stuff anyway.

Still, I got the feeling that male passersby were giving me either strange, envious, or disgusted looks.

I pushed all those inconsequentialities to the back of my head, and concentrated on the task at hand – welcome home presents for the rest of the Angel Brigade.

The short flight from Angel H.Q. with Milfeulle seemed a little awkward for me, not being used to having another person in the Avatar. Even then, the complicated corkscrews and maneuvers she had me do were exhilarating for both of us, though more so for her. The fifteen minutes that it supposedly took to reach the planet-with-the-awfully-big-shopping-district (as Milfeulle called it) stretched to an hour and a half.

"Jai! Hello? Are you there?"

"H-huh?" I realized I was daydreaming again.

She laughed lightly, but had an apologetic look on her face. "Silly, you're spacing out. I'm not boring you, am I?"

"Well, not really..."

"I know!" She exclaimed. "You could help me choose some outfits when I try them on. How does that sound?"

"That's fine, I mean, I don't mind..."

"Great! Come over here."

And so she dragged me deeper into the store, towards the fitting room area.

There have been many overwhelming and daunting situations during my Spec-Ops missions, but nothing in all that time has ever fazed me as much as what I had just gone through. In the end, I was literally struggling to breathe.

The clothes Milfeulle tried on at the start were casual dresses and outfits. But as she went on, they became more and more extravagant, then more and more ridiculous, then more and more daring. The last one almost made me faint.

"Is...there...any more...?" I asked, regaining my composure.

She was back in uniform once more. "Nope, that's it I guess."

_'Good,'_ I mentally sighed. Milfeulle was smiling contentedly as I took the hefty bags of newly-purchased clothes. It looked like she bought more for herself than for the others.

"Let's have lunch before going back to HQ," she suggested, "that is, if it would be okay with you..."

I replied, "That would be nice."

We had lunch at a rooftop café. There weren't many people there, though the air was cool and refreshing – a welcome change to the air conditioning inside the mall.

Milfeulle noticed as much. "This is one of my favorite places to eat, or sometimes just hang around...the breeze is just heavenly. And the food is good too."

"That so..." I was looking at the menu. The establishment was a café in the strictest sense, serving only an assortment of cappuccinos, lattes, pastries, and other beverages and sweets. It was a wide selection of the sort, so I couldn't complain much.

Milfeulle ordered a tall mocha java with extra cherries and a strawberry cupcake; I requested for a butter croissant and a cup of Planet XOXO Coffee.

"I was surprised they serve that here," I said after the waiter had left.

"You're a coffee connoisseur?" She asked.

"Well, I used to drink the stuff on a semi-regular basis in Spec-Ops...lots of different kinds too; whether staying up all night planning missions or on reconnaissance. It's a wonder I'm not addicted to it by now," I replied.

Milfeulle nodded. "Then what makes the coffee from Planet XOXO so special? I haven't tried it yet," she pondered.

"Well, it tastes just right, I suppose...it's kind of difficult to describe; and it doesn't have much caffeine, making it a very relaxing drink. You know, there was one mission back in Spec-Ops that investigated that very concern..."

"Then? What did you find out?"

"It wasn't my mission, so I'm not really sure. Anyway, the report from our agent read simply that 'there's a lot of XOXO going on there'."

A pause set in as we both took in what I had just said...

Then, at the same time, we both erupted in laughter.

"Must've been classified information," she said through tears of amusement.

The waiter arrived and found us in such a state of hilarity that he even chuckled a little.

We had both calmed down and were eating when I offered her a sip of the coffee.

"May I? Then, thank you very much," Smiling, she received the warm cup from me with both hands and sipped a little of the steaming black liquid, taking a moment to savor the taste.

"Wow; that's really...hard to describe somehow..." she marveled, handing it back to me.

"Didn't I tell you? Good, huh?" I said, taking a sip myself. I was a little surprised when a strawberry tinge met my tongue, and much more surprised to find a smudge of strawberry frosting on the cup.

_'This is...!'_

"Well," Milfeulle said, interrupted my train of thought. "I guess after here, we could head back already, unless you'd want to stop by anywhere else?"

"N-no..." I answered rather feebly. She didn't seem to notice, fortunately.

The rest of the meal was uneventful. During the trip back to Angel HQ, however, I was again doing high-speed complex flight sequences for the benefit, or perhaps for the delight, of my passenger. And I was even moving faster this time, getting used to the additional factor of someone else being in the craft – especially since it was this person in particular.

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It was already late in the day as I hefted eleven shopping bags to the lounge area; Milfeulle carried four others to her room.

I was stretched out on the couch when she returned. "Oh dear, did I tire you out very much? I'm sorry..."

"No, I'm fine; just having a little break..." I said, closing my eyes.

She approached and I thought she patted me on the forehead. Fleetingly, more like a slight touch than anything.

"I really appreciate everything you've done for me today." I was surprised at how close her voice was, and how her breath tickled my forehead. But when I opened my eyes, she was already standing upright. "Thank you so much; I had a lot of fun," she added, before flashing me a smile and then walking back to her room.

It seemed like she looked a little...red in the face.

And I felt I was too.

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**A/N:** Okay, I think this chapter had more than its fair share of cute moments.


	8. Before Setting Out

**A/N: **Okay, I realize this is an extremely long update, and also an extremely short chapter. I suppose I'm just setting the story up for major plot advances...and to let you know I'm not giving up on this fic.

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**CHAPTER 8**

Before Setting Out

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I was never one to enjoy meeting other people, but today seemed interesting enough that I was actually looking forward to when the rest of the Angel Brigade would arrive.

"And what time would that be?" Roen asked, a bit impatient. It was already past lunchtime. Everyone was waiting at the bridge, streamers and banners had been put up, but nobody had arrived yet.

Milfeulle shrugged, looking a little worried. "I'm not really sure, but they probably would have told us if they were going to be late. I can't seem to reach them on communications."

"Let me try..." The engineer got up from the cushioned sofa he was sprawled in, and sauntered to the main control panel. "Hmmm...Kung-Fu Fighter, Trick Master, and Happy Trigger, right? Lemme put them on speakerphone."

The ringtone, which oddly resembled funky elevator music, sounded in the entire bridge. A full minute passed before Roen shut it off.

"Nothing..." he said, shrugging. "Either they're all unavailable, or won't answer. Where are they coming from, anyway?" he asked Milfeulle.

"I don't really know, but I suppose not very far, probably only in the next two or three solar systems from here," she answered.

Roen scratched his unkempt hair for a moment before snapping his fingers. "Then they should be close enough to track." He then pushed a sequence of buttons until the screen showed a huge map of the entire surrounding space.

"Cool, huh?" He whistled, after seeing our amazed expressions – mine and Milfeulle's, at least – Vanilla's demeanor remained its usual. "So! This is a three-dimensional map of the nearby vicinity, with a 5,000-mile radius. I'll just input the ship IDs of those we're looking for, and they should appear...if they're anywhere, wherever they are."

Another series of button-pressing ensued, and soon one dot appeared on the diagram – an orange one near the upper right.

"Aha!" Roen exclaimed. "Though...that's only the Kung-Fu Fighter. The others are out of range, it seems."

"That far away?" Milfeulle wondered out loud, "What could Ranpha be doing?"

I studied the map for a moment. "Well, whatever it is, we now know she's not in a shopping planet district..." The area the dot was blinking in was a ship junkyard.

Milfeulle was now even more worried. "Then her ship was turned to junk?"

"We don't know that yet..." I hesitantly answered. It was impossible to guess what had actually happened for now. "Best thing to do is investigate, I suppose."

A few moments of silence passed as we all considered what to do next. Roen finally spoke, "Though I think the more prudent question to ask is 'what could the others be doing?'. I mean, they're even further away from us than this one."

I nodded, still deep in thought.

"Let's bring the Angel Brigade ship and go to Ranpha!" Milfeulle suddenly said, enthusiastically.

I started to nod...then exclaimed, "What?" and looked up so fast, my head hurt. I had thought of just taking the Avatar to explore the site alone, but it was apparent that Milfeulle, at least, had other plans.

"I said, let's bring the Angel Brigade ship and go to Ranpha!" The pink-haired lieutenant repeated.

"And what would that accomplish?" I asked, slightly annoyed. I figured it best for the Angel HQ ship to remain stationary in case the other ships show up and arrive, even thought that possibility was rather remote.

"Chief's got a point there," Roen added, seemingly able to read my train of thought.

Milfeulle was not able to answer at once; her face scrunched up in a vague frown. "It's..." she finally stammered, "I just have a feeling we should."

I cocked my head to one side. _'Just what exactly is on her mind?'_

Then Vanilla spoke up. "We should bring the Angel ship," were her only words. It wasn't a question, nor was it a request.

Roen looked to both girls, then at me, and shrugged. "It's your call, Jai."

Just Milfeulle suggesting it seemed somewhat uncertain, but now even Vanilla was insistent. I scratched my head and sighed.

"Okay, I suppose it's decided. Angel Brigade HQ ship set off towards the location of the Kung-Fu Fighter."

"Aye," Roen said, and made his way to the controls at the far end of the room.

Vanilla simply nodded, looking pleased despite the usual blank expression on her face, before leaving the bridge.

Milfeulle stood in surprise for a moment, before suddenly leaning towards me, giving a small peck on my cheek and a whispered "thank you", and then also leaving the bridge in a hurry.

I stood in even more bewilderment. _'What was that all about?'_ I could only wonder.

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**A/N: **See? Short. However, the upside is that I'm now a lot more motivated to write...and I suppose I could have another chapter up within the month. Yay!


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